Through the Jaws of Hell
by purrpickle
Summary: 4th season. Willow's bitten by an unknown demon. While trying to figure out what the demon's bite pumped into her, she finds herself acting strange... More assertive and confident. ...Especially in regards to her friendship with Tara. W/T
1. Chapter 1

AN: I don't own Buffy: the Vampire Slayer, nor the characters within.

* * *

Willow knew as well as everyone else did that her extracurricular activities were dangerous. However, this night had been different. Wiping slimy demon gunk off of her face, grimacing at how it weighed her hair down, matting it to her forehead, she collapsed into the chair Tara had pushed close to the bed earlier that day. The redhead smiled in remembrance.

Tara had been brushing Willow's hair, playing with it, making it wacky and preppy. Laughing after seeing her hair pulled up in a rather pathetic Mohawk, the blonde teasing that she would spell it permanently, Willow had threatened to sneak into Tara's dorm room one night and dye her toothpaste green. Tara had arched an eyebrow and asked with one of her trademark half-grins, "Well, I like playing with your hair. I rather don't think you like playing with my… teeth…"

Willow sighed. She remembered the awkward silence after that, only broken when Tara had brushed her hair back into a semblance of normality. And then Buffy had called, requesting emergency backup.

Pulling her hand from underneath her large overcoat where it had been pressing against her side, Willow brought it up, studying the dark crimson substance that streaked across her hand. It was odd. The bite didn't hurt. Not really. The only pain that she remembered was when the demon's teeth had first punctured her - and even then it was only brief.

The demon, an ugly thing with green ridged skin and three horns rising from a sloped brow, an impressive amount of teeth protruding from its maw, large hands and feet and a spiky tail, seven feet tall, had managed to corner Willow behind a crypt. Having no time to cast a spell, the demon had quickly overpowered her and latched its teeth into her waist, crouching over her sideways. Fortunately, Buffy had shown up just then, skewering it in the back with her sword.

Hence the slime – blood, really – covering Willow's face and body.

She hadn't told Buffy, Xander, or Giles about her injury, just saying that the demon had pinned her down. She didn't want to appear weak. Or clumsy. Spastic. Something she usually did. Unfortunately.

She shivered. The slime was cooling on her skin and making her cold. Grabbing a towel and her toiletries, along with some clean clothes and bandages, Willow made her way to the showers. She knew no one was going to be there at this time of night, and she was glad. How would she explain her appearance? Along with her own blood she could feel trickling under her clothes…

How come it didn't hurt? Her mind flashed to fanged snakes and tarantulas. Didn't they have a chemical in their saliva that made it so when their spit mixed with the victim's blood, pumping in their venom, the victim only felt numb?

That thought made her uncomfortable. Turning the knob to start the hot water flowing down, shucking her clothes and stepping under the welcome cleansing heat, she wondered. Did this mean the demon had pumped her with its venom? Poison?

She swallowed. Its… eggs? Young? Sperm?

She and the Scooby Gang didn't know anything about it – yet. She would sure as hell research to find out if its reproductive system was in its mouth. She really hoped not. A thought made her giggle as she started to shampoo her hair, leaving her wound for last. If it was indeed in its mouth, poor male/female demon! The pain to mate!

But anyway. Willow massaged her hands through her hair, making her scalp tingle. She didn't feel any different. Washing the slime from her face and neck, debating whether or not to bring her clothing in to wash them clean too, she turned her attention to the bite mark on her waist.

It was situated on the right side, just above her hip, tracking from right under the swell of her breast. Only piercing her with its three upper incisors, the rest of the teeth surprisingly blunt, clearly outlined with the angry purple of bruises, Willow couldn't help but remember her theory of venom. Gently testing the puffy edges that leaked small trickles of blood quickly washed away by the water, she was surprised that she didn't feel any pain. It worried her, but she made sure to clean the wound completely, dressing it after she was done with her shower.

Returning to the dorm room she shared with Buffy, she collapsed into her bed, for once not caring that she was going to bed with wet hair. She was asleep immediately.

***

The next morning, she got up as she normally did, shaking Buffy, asleep in the bed across the room, having snuck in sometime that morning after smoochie time with Riley. Willow didn't envy her best friend, really. She had her own person she liked spending time with away from everyone else.

Even if she and Tara weren't constantly making out – if even; Willow blushed at the thought. She was so attracted to her shy friend, having already admitted to herself a couple of weeks ago that she could even _be_ attracted to a woman. She just wasn't sure that Tara liked her back. Well, she knew that Tara _liked_ her. She just didn't know if she _like_ liked her.

Checking her side while in the bathroom getting ready to go to class, she was satisfied when she noticed it had stopped bleeding sometime in the night. Redressing it, she pulled a bulky sweater over her head, glad that it was late winter, still cold enough to wear sweaters like the one she had chosen. Brushing her hair into some semblance of style, she went back to her dorm room to gather her books and laptop.

Rolling her eyes at Buffy still bundled up in bed, trying to fight the coming of the day, she shook her again, only stopping when a bleary eye glared up at her, "What!?"

"Buff', class is going to start soon. You have to get up."

"Don't you usually leave early to meet up with Tara to do some 'witchy stuff'?" Buffy asked, grumbling, pulling down her covers just enough so Willow could see her mouth forming her words.

"Yeah, so?" Willow asked, her heart skipping a beat when the Slayer mentioned Tara's name.

As if satisfied with her answer, Buffy's head disappeared back under the covers. She mumbled something.

"What?" Willow leaned closer, trying to understand.

"I said," Buffy pulled her covers back down, her voice slightly edged. Willow didn't mind; Buffy was always snippy in the morning, "That means I have another half n' hour until I have to wake up. So please, let a tired Slayer get her rest. Please?"

Hearing how plaintive her friend asked, Willow finally relented. "Fine," she grinned, "Just don't blame me when I make you do the laundry this weekend if you're late to class."

Frankly, the laundry room held bittersweet memories for the red-haired wiccan. That was the place she had fully met Tara, their essences combining to send the soda machine crashing against the door, stopping the Gentlemen, to be sure. But it was also the place she had been cornered, her ankle throbbing, no voice to call for help. Willow always made sure she had someone with her every time she went in there now, feeling still sort of frightened if she was in there alone. Any opportunity to get Buffy to do washing duty was gladly welcomed.

Buffy turning over and snuggling into her pillow was answer enough. Willow shook her head, smiling at her friend's antics, and left the room, locking it after her.

She walked down the hall, swinging her book bag back and forth, idly surprised that she didn't feel tired or sore at all. In fact, she felt energetic, almost as if she could run all the way to Tara's room. She contemplated doing so for a second, but then remembered that the blonde witch was going to meet her at the Espresso Pump that morning; she had said that there was something she wanted to talk about. Willow's eyes glowed. A chance to have mocha-goodness and Tara-goodness first thing in the morning was a very pleasing thought.

Unfortunately, the Tara-goodness that would be even better just wasn't possible now, if ever. Oh well. Willow sighed, crossing the quad, enjoying the morning sun on her skin; at least she still could make Tara smile. She didn't do that enough.

***

Slipping into the Espresso Pump, her eyes scanning everywhere for her Tara, she finally spotted her sitting in one of those high café chairs, two mochas placed in front of her on the table. She was facing away from Willow, looking nervously around, tucking a long blonde bang behind her ear. Willow smiled at how adorable she looked, and walked over.

"I assume that one of those is for me?" she asked, taking the chair across from the older girl, setting her bag down next to a leg of the table, "Or unless you're meeting someone else?"

Tara looked up, a full fledged smile blooming on her face, starting at one corner and crossing to the other. Her blue eyes met Willow's shyly, and she pushed one of the mochas forward. "N-no. There's no one e-else. I-I mean, n-no one else I'm m-meeting."

Willow gratefully accepted that drink. "Mmm. Mocha-ey goodness! Thanks, Tara!" And indeed, the sweet and thick taste of warm mocha filled her mouth, traveling through her senses. She was pretty sure that it was the best taste in the world. That is… She snuck a glance at Tara, blushing faintly. My, she was even worse than when Oz was around!

She took another sip, smiling brightly. She studied the planes of Tara's face, liking everything she saw. The way Tara wore her hair, the zigzagging line of her part that always reminded Willow of the first time that they met at the Wicca group. Her gentle blue eyes topped by light eyelashes, her gaze always so knowing and sweet. Tara's strong nose, irresistible lips…

Wait. Tara was frowning at her!

"Tara! Is anything wrong?" She leaned forward, one hand coming up to gently take Tara's, the one that had been playing with a napkin. Her brow furrowed, and she absently marveled at how strong and warm Tara's hand felt in hers, "I-I mean, you wanted to talk and all, but I didn't think anything was bugging you. If anything is bugging you, please, don't hesitate to tell me! Is it me? Is it something I did? Please tell me if it's something I did – or maybe I didn't do! Did I not do something? You can tell me, I won't mind. That is, if you want to tell me, is something that you can tell me. I wouldn't want to force you to tell me – especially if it's about me! You certainly don't have to tell me everything! Not that I ask about everything, nope! I know when people want to be private. Yep! Private gal am I! Heck, I'm so private that I…" She trailed off, realizing what she was saying.

She withdrew her hand, sitting back again, a small hoping expression on her face. "You know what I mean, right?"

Tara nodded, one of the half smiles that warmed Willow's heart appearing on her face, "I-I think so."

Willow sighed, "Oh, good." She hid her burgeoning blush behind her mocha, taking a sip to calm herself.

Suddenly, Tara began to giggle.

Willow looked up, surprised, staring at how relaxed the other girl looked. "Oh great," she dropped her head, "Now you're laughing at me."

"W-Willow, I'm not l-laughing at you. Please l-look up," Tara said gently, and she reached out her hand to brush soft fingers against Willow's hand. "I-I just said that I w-wanted to talk to get you here. I k-knew that you'd been really b-busy lately, so I w-wanted you to relax before c-class. T-that's all."

"Really?" Willow asked hopefully, looking up, her hand tingling.

Tara nodded.

"Okay. Then why were you frowning?"

Tara's answer was simple. She looked straight into Willow's eyes, her expression serious: "Because you're hurt."

Willow stared at her. She couldn't lie. Not to Tara. It would just feel so wrong. "How… How did you know?"

"Your aura. W-What happened? Patrol?"

Willow looked into Tara's deep blue eyes, overwhelmed by all of the care that she saw in their depths. Her thoughts were racing. Her aura? But she didn't feel any pain. How would it affect her aura? She frowned. Unless… Unless the demon really had pumped something into her veins.

"Tara," she said suddenly.

"Y-yes?"

"I need your help."

***

Tara helped Willow remove her sweater, folding it and placing it onto her bed, both of them safely hidden away in Tara's dorm room. Using gentle hands, she removed the bandage Willow had wrapped around herself. The breath caught in her throat. "Oh Willow…" she murmured, reaching out one hand to stroke the pale skin next to the bite mark. Her heart felt pain at seeing the girl she loved hurt so badly. "You say that this doesn't hurt?"

Alone with the redhead, Tara felt comfortable enough that she lost her stutter. It was only when she was surrounded by people that she didn't have control over her voice. It was uncomfortable. However, with Willow at her side, Tara always felt so calm and special. She concentrated on her again.

Tara tried not to look at Willow standing there in only her bra. But it was really hard. So much skin – pale and dotted with endearing freckles, especially on her shoulders – was offered to her. She tried to convince herself that it wasn't any different than seeing Willow in a bathing suit, which she had seen, but something still taunted her with the fact that it was underwear. It was somehow more private. She tried, knowing that Willow would run screaming if she messed up. But Willow just looked so cute, hot, attractive -- exposed. To her credit though, the object of her thoughts didn't seem to be that self-conscious, still holding her arms up for a second before letting them fall loosely at her sides.

"It doesn't," Willow nodded, a chagrined smile on her lips as she turned her head to look at her. "Strange, huh?" She, herself, looked uncomfortable with her admission. "Instead, I've been so full of energy. I was gonna run to your room this morning, actually, before I remembered that we were meeting at the Espresso Pump."

Tara blinked. Willow usually wasn't one to indulge in athletics. Nor herself, really. They got enough exercise from when they accompanied Buffy on patrol. "Do you know what kind of demon it was?" Tara turned away, gathering herbs and spices and other ingredients that she knew would help heal the wound faster and prevent much scarring.

Willow shook her head. "Nope. We're going to be research buddies at Giles' house later today, when Buffy and I get out of class. You want to come along?"

Tara tried not to read into her hopeful grin, but it was hard not to. The way Willow was looking at her, she was sure that… No. She had had Oz. As far as she knew, Willow had never expressed interest in women before.

She shook her head, feeling guilty. "I can't. I have an essay due tomorrow." As Willow's face started to look disappointed, she added awkwardly, "I'm sorry, but…"

"No! That's okay. Really. Class is important. Really. It is. You know me. Education gal!" Willow thrust her fist into the air.

But not as important as helping you! Tara wanted to protest. If she didn't have to have good grades to keep her scholarship, she would gladly go and help find information. She hated how she couldn't be around Willow all the time. Couldn't kiss her, hold her… She hadn't even gotten up the courage to hug her fiery goddess goodbye if Willow didn't insist on one. And if she did without Willow prompting one, wouldn't that seem so uncharacteristic of Tara?

Not for the first time, Tara wished she could be so much stronger.

Shaking her head, she reached out and tucked a red bang behind Willow's ear before she realized what she was doing. In the process, the redhead looked up, the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen meeting Tara's gaze.

Willow pressed into her touch. Thinking that she was trembling, Tara was surprised to realize that it was her hand that was the one quivering. Willow's skin just felt so warm and soft. It called to her. Her gaze dropped to Willow's mouth when she sighed, and she unconsciously licked her own. Her mouth felt so dry. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest, her hand, her head.

As if in slow motion, Willow raised her right arm and slid it around Tara's waist, tugging her forward. Already close to the redhead, Tara now realized that she could feel Willow's breath combining with her own, skittering across her cheeks and mouth. Heat radiated out from her bare skin, and Tara found that she yearned to feel that heat against her.

The area surrounding them was charged, loaded. Willow's gaze held her own; she couldn't look away even if she wanted to. Something lurked deep inside those green eyes, something that drew her in.

And, before Tara could react, Willow had grabbed the back of her neck and urged her forward, kissing her deeply.


	2. Chapter 2

Willow felt so warm, so warm. She also felt Tara's lips against her own. After the initial pressure, Tara's lips had opened against her questing tongue, and Tara-taste had assaulted her senses. She had been right. Tara-taste _was_ better than mocha-ey goodness. A thousand times better. A million. _Infinity_.

Tara moaned against her, one of her arms sliding around Willow's waist, the other tangling in the hair at the nape of Willow's neck. Feeling Tara's fabric covered arms moving against her skin made her shiver. Blonde hair brushing against her shoulders made her shiver.

The look in Tara's eyes when she moved back made her quiver.

Tears were slowly gathering in her eyes, and, as Willow watched, one slipped down the left side of her face. Instantly, the redhead's fingers were there to catch it.

"Oh Tara… What's wrong…? Did I, did I do anything wrong?" Her heart and her breath stopped.

The blonde shook her head, her hands suddenly beginning to tremble, clutching onto Willow's skin. She moved forward, resting her forehead against Willow's, her breath coming fast and hard.

And then she understood. An emotional overload – for both of them – had just happened. But of what kind? Willow didn't know. All she knew was that she enjoyed feeling Tara against her. She could feel Tara's eyelashes flutter ever so softly against her cheek. She knew she wanted to kiss the blonde again.

As she moved, Tara's eyes shyly met her own. Hesitating for a second, her gaze alternating between blue eyes and pink lips, Willow finally settled her mouth ever so softly against the waiting ones that called to her… and Tara's watch started to beep.

Immediately, Willow jerked back, overcompensating her movement because of her shock. She toppled over backward, landing with a thump at Tara's feet.

She blinked wildly, surprised to suddenly find her bottom on the floor. "Uh… What?"

"It's-It's time to leave for c-class…" Tara explained, reaching down and offering her hand.

Willow accepted it, frowning. Tara was stuttering. Why was Tara stuttering? A cold feeling started to creep into her stomach.

She had done wrong.

Okay, she wasn't quite sure why she had kissed Tara – well, that was a lie; she did - but she still didn't know _why_ she had kissed Tara. She had been standing there, staring into eyes so blue they sucked her in, slightly cold without her shirt on, and then suddenly she was kissing the most beautiful person in the world. She mentally squinted. No… That wasn't right. Her wound had twinged, just a bit, and then she was kissing Tara with all that she had.

Willow chewed on her lip. Facing Tara once again, she suddenly grabbed the blonde's hand, holding it in between them. She was shocked at how cold the other girl's skin felt. "Tara," she asked softly, "Is, is everything… okay?"

Tara swallowed. She looked everywhere other than at Willow's face. "O-okay?"

"I… I mean, me… Me kissing you…" Willow swallowed. The blonde looked so vulnerable, her shoulders hunched. Before her nerves fully ran out, Willow said quickly, "Was it okay that I kissed you?"

Tara's face fell, and she dropped her hand from Willow's grasp. Immediately, Willow felt small, and she could feel it get harder to breathe, her throat constricting.

"N-no, it d-doesn't have to m-mean anything," Tara stuttered.

"What!?" Willow surged forward. "Tara, what are you talking about?" She grabbed the blonde's shoulders. "I _want_ it to mean something!"

Tara's head jerked up. "You, you do?"

The hopeful look in her eyes almost killed Willow. She lowered her voice, bringing up one hand to gently wipe away the tears that had fallen from Tara's eyes, cupping her cheek, "Yes." She looked directly at the blonde.

***

Buffy glanced at the clock on the wall. She was in her Psychology class. Minus Willow. Willow was late. What was she talking about? Willow was never late. But she was. The one who was always early was late. Was that even possible? Some sort of oxymoron. Her eyes roved around the classroom, trying to see if Willow was sitting in another seat or something.

Riley caught her gaze, and he smiled at her, causing her heart to beat ever so faster. She smiled back, blushing a bit, before returning her gaze to the front of the class. How could Riley be so hunky?

…And so not right for her, a voice whispered up to her from the middle of her brain. She pushed it away. She didn't need to hear her inner voice right now. Especially hear it talk about Riley. She was worried about Willow. The redhead instead of the brown-haired one. The female, not the male.

She frowned. Why was she babbling in her own head?

Buffy looked at the clock again. There was only a half hour left in the class. She mentally shrugged. Oh well. At least she didn't have to do laundry duty that weekend. Willow hadn't been there to see her arrive late to class.

***

Checking her watch while madly dashing to her first period class, Willow knew that she was seriously screwed.

After convincing Tara that the kiss _had_ been meant, an uncomfortable silence had descended onto the two. Tara had walked over to sit on the side of her bed, starting to sort the herbs and ingredients she had gotten out. Feeling ignored and so prickly and lightheaded standing in the middle of the room without her sweater on, Willow moved to stand awkwardly at Tara's desk. She had picked up a small square shaped candle to study, trying hard not to jump onto Tara, press her into the bed, and cover her with kisses. Once she had gotten a taste of Tara, she craved more. She didn't know where she stood.

"Tara," she murmured, her gaze never leaving the candle in her palm, "I didn't know you liked this color…"

A light touch on her shoulder turned her around. "I don't," Tara said simply, moving past Willow to take the candle from her grasp, "I like the scent. Here." She moved the gray candle up to the redhead's nose. "Smell."

Taking a deep breath through her nose, all Willow could smell was Tara's scent, warm and substantial, vanilla and spice. She could clearly smell the herbs Tara had been sorting. "I… don't smell anything." She turned confused eyes onto the blonde.

Tara grinned, her eyes quiet for the first time that day. "That's the point." She set the candle down. "Sometimes I want the light without the scent. This was only the real color without a scent of this shape."

Willow nodded. "Is it… extra flamey?" she asked, her lips quirking. Her heart had started to pound again, the smell of Tara fresh and musky in her nose. She swore she had never noticed it so powerfully before.

Tara grinned back, the shape of her lips so enchanting - Willow couldn't stop thinking about them… "Yep. It's extra flamey."

The silence returned. Willow was just about to ask for her sweater again when Tara's eyes widened, and she squeaked. "Willow!" she exclaimed, "Do you know what time it is? We have to get to class. Here, let me redress your wound." Tara pulled her over to the bed.

Willow now smelled like the Magic Box. She wrinkled her nose, laughing softly to herself. Any self-worthy witch or warlock would be able to smell her coming. Ah, such as she did for love… She could still feel Tara's hands on her, so gentle and knowing…

As she skirted the edge of the quad, she could see the building her class was located in.

She could also see a large gaggle of college students streaming out of the entrance.

Her heart sank. She had missed her class. How? It didn't seem like she had been _that_ long in Tara's dorm room. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to catch a glimpse of her blonde-haired friend. As she expected, Riley was with Buffy. She hurried over.

"Hey," Buffy said as the redhead got close, "Look who it is! Weren't you the one who got up early this morning?"

"Hey Buff', hey Riley," Willow nodded at them, juggling her book bag up to hold it in her arms, unconsciously hiding behind it. She smiled sheepishly. "I missed class, huh?"

They nodded.

"Great. I… uh… Something came up with Tara and me, and so we had to go back to her dorm room and work it out. It… It took longer than we thought it would." She lied through her teeth, knowing she wasn't the best liar ever. She just hoped the Slayer and Commando Boy wouldn't ask her about it. A blush crawled up her neck. What would she say? 'Oh yeah, Tara helped me strip my shirt off, and I ended up kissing her senseless. And then she had her hands all over me, and oh yeah. It happens all the time. No, I'm not weird.'?

Really.

"Spells, huh?" Riley asked, settling his arm around Buffy's shoulders. Willow wondered idly how he managed to do it without stooping over too much. Goodness knows he was so much taller than her!

She blushed even harder. "Uh, yeah, spells, right. Research tonight?" She blurted out, walking next to the happy couple as they made their way to the cafeteria.

Buffy blinked over at her. "Eager, much?" she asked, brushing her hair off of her face, "I really don't know why. It's dead, isn't it?" She shrugged.

Willow stopped, her mouth dropping open. "Not research? What are you, crazy? What if it stalked in packs? What if it's a portent of what's to come? Buff', we _need_ to research! Giles would kill us if we didn't!"

Buffy stared at her, her eyebrows twisting over her eyes, "Wills', chill. Calm. God, you're such a Research Hag. We'll research, alright? I just thought we could relax for once. You know, Bronze?"

"Yeah." Riley nodded. "As much as I'm all for keeping up diligence, you really have been working hard lately, Willow." He looked at her, concern in his brown eyes. "What's up?" Seeing as they were coming upon the cafeteria, he added, "Ah, here's my stop. I have class soon."

Buffy leaned up to accept his kiss, smiling as they separated. Willow waved him an easy goodbye.

If she thought hard enough, Willow envied their easy companionship. Look what I did to Tara, and already it's strained, she thought sullenly; if I try it anytime soon, Tara'll probably run away from me! At least she enjoyed it…

A smile bloomed on her face. Tara-kisses… Tara-hands… Too bad I have to take it slow…

As Riley disappeared from view, Buffy suddenly whirled on the redhead. "Alright," she said, "Spill. You smell like you rolled around in a witch's garden. What did you and Tara _do_? Did you have a freaky herb-wrestling contest that I don't want to hear about?"

Willow felt like hitting her head. With her Slayer senses, of course Buffy would smell all of the herbs on her! "Eh… No…?" she said tentatively, grabbing a plate of assorted fruit to set on her tray. She really wasn't feeling like eating anything substantial.

Buffy grabbed the plate next to the one Willow had confiscated. She also added a chicken salad sandwich, a muffin, and a carton of chocolate milk. At Willow's look, she looked down and mumbled, "Missed breakfast…"

"Aha!" Willow crowed, handing in her food stamp at the cash register, waiting for it to be punched, "I knew it! You were late, weren't you?"

Her best friend managed to look smug. She led the way over to an empty table, opening her sandwich, taking a huge bite out of it before answering. "Hey! You weren't there to catch me, so don't try to push laundry duty on me! I believe, in accordance with how these rules work, you should be the one to do it. Seeing as you missed class altogether!"

Willow knew she had a point. Shoveling a piece of cantaloupe into her mouth, she nodded. "Alright. You have a point. I'll do it. You monkey pooh."

"_I'm_ the monkey pooh?" Buffy laughed, "You were the one who skipped! Hey, isn't that Tara?" And, before Willow could stop her, she waved Tara over.

Willow could feel her before she spoke, "H-hey."

Tara fiddled nervously with her denim jean jacket, taking a seat to the right of Willow only after Buffy pointed it out to her. Her smile appeared and disappeared. Her hands didn't stop moving, Willow noticed. She constantly fixed her hair, brushing stray bangs behind her ears. She had never looked more beautiful to the red-haired witch. Willow, seeing that she didn't have any food in front of her, scooted her fork and fruit bowl over.

"Th-thanks," Tara said softly, and her smile filled Willow with warmth, her eyes so deep and blue she almost couldn't look away.

"So, Tara," Buffy leaned forward, oblivious to the tension between the two wiccans, "I hear that you and Willow were herb-wrestling…?" Her hazel eyes danced teasingly.

"Wh-what?"

"Buffy!" Willow protested, a blush heightening her cheeks again, "We didn't!"

Without realizing it, Willow's right hand had slipped down and found Tara's left under the table. She squeezed, and after a second, Tara squeezed back. Feeling Tara-warmth spread through her from her hand, she realized that she could smell Tara again. It was exciting and calming at the same time, and she could feel Tara's heart beat strongly in her palm. She glanced at Tara out of the corner of her eye.

Red had spread across the blonde's face, and she was looking down, picking at the fruit with her other hand - Willow ached to kiss away the shyness from her face. She laced their hands together, feeling the swell of magic run through her again after Tara's fingers linked with hers.

***

Tara could barely think, process what Buffy was saying. All of her thoughts were centered on the redhead's hand in hers, in her presence next to her. She couldn't believe that Willow had kissed her earlier that morning – that knowledge buzzed through her mind, making any contact with Willow even that much more elicit.

And Tara had reacted by beginning to cry, sure that life was playing a cruel trick on her.

But then Willow had looked at her with her luminous green eyes, her expression serious, her voice controlled, asking, hopeful. Tara had looked deeply into her soul, seeing all of the emotions Willow had held back – and she had fallen even deeper in love with the girl known as Willow Rosenberg. So why was she hesitant to entrust her heart completely to her? Why was she still running?

Because you're afraid that she's acting this way because of the bite wound, aren't you, an inner voice piped up. Willow confided in you that she was sure something had been injected in her blood system, and so you can't trust anything she does until you find out exactly what it was, can you? It's just a side affect. She surely hadn't kissed you before, had she? It must be shock.

Tara felt miserable. She hated thinking the way she was, but it was true. She was skeptical. Maybe Willow was just getting close to her, seeking comfort because she was afraid of what was inside of her.

But oh, what she had felt when Willow's lips had met hers…! She had dreamed of those Willow-lips for weeks! Of Willow-arms, Willow-skin, Willow-kisses. And she had gotten all of it. Willow had felt so good in her arms, so warm, fluid-like. Her smaller frame had been the perfect size and shape to fit inside of Tara's arms. Her lips had been so pliable, so demanding; Tara had actually gotten weak-kneed. Willow's hair had been so soft under and over her hand, her scalp so warm. The skin at her waist had been so soft and heated, and Tara could have sworn Willow had pushed into her touch, craving for more contact.

But then it had gotten too overwhelming. When Willow had pulled back, even as Tara's lips had felt so lost and alone without the other's against them, Tara could feel relief, sadness, pain, and happiness swamp her body, making her tremble.

And Willow had been so sweet, knowing exactly what to say. But still there was that niggle at the back of her brain. She couldn't keep it away, only shove it down into the niche of her brain it had come from. It was just Tara's manner to be pessimistic.

But she hated being pessimistic, so she squeezed Willow's hand again. She almost jumped when Willow's thumb started to stroke the back of her hand. She could see Willow's grin from the corner of her eye.

She sighed. Yes, how was she supposed to pay attention to Buffy when there was a fiery goddess next to her?


End file.
